


Lockerboy

by crankyjones



Series: Because Newtmas is beautiful. [7]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Locker, M/M, Mute Newt, Panic Attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 04:32:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16190156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crankyjones/pseuds/crankyjones
Summary: "Newt, there's some guy standing in front of your locker.""Looks like he's trying to open it or something."





	Lockerboy

**Author's Note:**

> TW: panic attack
> 
> Written for my English literature assignment :,))  
> I'm French, sorry for any mistakes!

“Newt, there’s some guy in front of your locker.”

Newt stopped in his tracks and lifted his head to face his best friend Minho. He saw his slanting eyes staring at the other side of the hallway, toward where they were heading. Out of curiosity, he followed his gaze and noticed he told the truth; right in front of his blue locker stood a person, all dressed in black, hood put on. Why he bothered doing so while being inside was a mystery.

“What are you looking at?” A voice behind the boys called. Newt did not have to look back to know who talked; he could recognise his second best friend Alby’s voice among a thousand. Not that he talked to a thousand people. Or even just talked, for that matter.

The thing was, Newt was mute. He always had been. And, because of that inability to get sounds out of his mouth, everyone at school avoided him. Newt didn’t blame them, though; if he could, he would avoid himself, too. For some reason, Minho and Alby decided it didn’t matter if the boy talked or not and they somehow became friends. They had been hanging out together for three years now and, in the meantime, Newt managed to teach them a few words in sign language, though he still had to use a notebook to write down what he wanted to say.

“The dude who’s creeping on Isaac’s lock—ouch!,” Minho answered but Newt punched him in the arm before he could finish his sentence. “Why’d you do that!?”  
Newt just stared at him, making him understand that if a look could kill, his heart would stop beating on the spot. He had written to him at least a million times that he did _not_ like his first name and preferred the nickname Newt—taken from his family name, Newton. But the Asian boy apparently enjoyed annoying his friend because he didn’t spend a single day without calling him Isaac.

“Looks like he’s trying to open it or something,” Alby said, ignoring the scene that was happening between his two best friends.  
“Didn’t you need to get your books, Newt?” Minho asked. “If you go near him it’ll probably scare him off and he’ll go away.”  
Newt looked at the boy in front of his locker again as he nodded slowly. Alby was right; he did seem like he wanted to open it. The blond shivered at the thought of what he could have in mind. It wouldn’t be the first time some bully put something in his locker just in order to humiliate him a little more. As if him being mute wasn’t enough. Newt learned over the years how to keep his head down and not draw any attention to himself but it happened that some people at school ruined his plans. It happened. Not a lot, but it happened. Luckily, people in high school seemed much nicer and more mature than they were in middle-school, and it did not happen at all since the beginning of the school year, two months ago.  
Well, maybe now it would happen.

The thought turned something on inside Newt’s brain. _It would happen._ Not again. He couldn’t handle it. Not now. He managed to stay more or less discreet for the past couple of months at school, with only a few people talking about him in the hallways. He managed to avoid any trouble, any drama. He was doing great! It couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t be able to take it.  
His breath increased suddenly, his lungs blowing the air twice as fast as a minute ago. He could _not_ go to his locker. Not until he was certain the guy didn’t put anything in it. Newt remembered all too well the time he got sprayed by a water bomb hidden inside, back in year seven. Or the time someone tricked him by making his locker a sweet little household for spiders— _huge_ spiders. Who knew what was waiting for him at that very moment.

A hand landed on his shoulder and Newt jumped, stepping away from its owner.  
“Newt, are you okay?” Alby had a genuine look of worry on his face as he tried to reach for his friend again. But Newt didn’t let him.  
He stepped back again until someone bumped into him. The world was spinning as he struggled to find the oxygen he desperately needed. It felt like there were too many people in the hallway and there wasn’t a single drop left for him. The light became too bright for his eyes and he couldn’t see a single thing anymore. The sounds around Newt seemed so loud they hurt. They flew toward his ears to then stab them with no mercy. His head felt dizzy. Only ringing noises reached his eardrums, along with what seemed like his name being called—but those were drowned among the ringings. Mute, blind _and_ deaf. As if the first wasn’t unbearable enough.

His vision came back when his face got slapped by the wind. _The wind._ He was outside, sat on the ground, yet Newt had no idea how he ended up here. Blurry figures moved in front of him and it took him a few seconds to see properly. His brain eventually managed to comprehend that the figure was actually Minho, crouched a couple feet away from him.  
“You okay there?” Even though his voice didn’t quite match the movements of his lips, the words sounded clear in Newt’s mind.  
The boy’s heart was pounding hard against his chest, the noises ringing in his head. He couldn’t help the tears that were rolling down his cheeks as he shook his head multiple times. He was sure Minho thought that he’d lost his mind, that he became crazy and needed to be locked up before he harmed anyone.  
“Newt, listen to my voice,” Minho said, stepping closer to the blond. “Take my hand, and squeeze it as hard as you want.” Newt obeyed, lifting his shaky left arm to take his best friend’s hand. When he started squeezing, he got scared he might break a couple of his fingers. But Minho didn’t complain. “Match your breaths to my words. In, and out. In. And out.”  
He was trying. He really was trying. But he couldn’t. A sob escaped his lips as he felt himself falling into the abyss once again. He was so stupid, he couldn’t even breathe properly.  
“Stay with me, Newt,” Minho called. “Breathe with me. In. Out.”  
As he focused on his fingers’ strength around his friend’s, Newt eventually managed to get his breathing to slow down a bit. His heart hurt. It felt like a large piece of glass was cutting right through it, letting him die slowly and painfully.  
“Alby’s currently with Lockerboy,” he told, probably in order to take Newt’s mind elsewhere. “Talking him out of whatever he planned to do.”  
Newt just listened, forcing his brain to focus on the words that Minho was saying. Soon enough, he felt his pulse slowing down, his grip on the brunet’s hand softening.

What seemed like a thousand years later, Alby showed up. The blond’s eyes stayed on his own fingers that were gently playing with Minho’s, though, and if his friend hadn’t exclaimed his name, he wouldn’t have noticed his presence.  
“Alby! I bet you broke a few bones of that idiot, haven’t you?” Minho asked him, sarcastically—Newt hoped. “At least you finally found something to do with that hench body of yours.”  
Newt felt his face light up. If he could get his vocal cords to work, he would likely laugh. But the tingle in his belly was enough to make him feel better.  
“No, actually,” Alby said with a serious tone. “You’re not going to believe it. None of you.”   
Newt saw him sit down out of the corner of his eye but didn’t feel like looking up yet. However, when a dark hand put a paper on his knee, he turned his head to look at him, not sure to know what he had to do with it.  
“Just read it,” he encouraged.  
“What’s going on? Can’t you just tell!” Minho got impatient, but Alby him, his whole focus on Newt who let go of his friend’s fingers to unfold the sheet of white paper.

Newt’s eyes ran down the black lines scribbled on it. Once. Twice. Six times. The words seemed unbelievable. Was it real? He wanted to laugh nervously. After all those years?  
“He wrote to me he was too shy to come see you in person.” Alby’s voice brought Newt back to reality. “Also, he’s sorry for scaring you.”  
“What’s going on?” Minho repeated, lifting his arms up in the air. “Who are you even talking about?”  
“Lockerboy,” the dark-skinned boy answered. “Actually, his name’s Thomas.”  
“What about him? What does he want?”  
“Well…” Alby started, then turned his head to look at Newt whose smile was so huge it hurt his cheek muscles. “He wants to meet Newt. Befriend him, even.”  
Newt slid the paper in his pocket and looked up at a confused Minho, smiling even more. And he let his hands speak: _“He is mute, too.”_

**Author's Note:**

> So I kinda want to do a part 2? What do you think?
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading! x


End file.
